


we're hanging on, trying it out, singing our song

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Family, Family Drama, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Yuri centric, but there will be different PoVs, otabek and yuri are bffs, they aren't professional figure skaters, yuri and viktor agree, yuri and viktor are hurting, yuuri is a top lad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 02:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10676091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After his grandfather’s untimely death, Yuri moves in with Viktor Nikiforov - a distant relative who seems to have just as many issues as he does.





	we're hanging on, trying it out, singing our song

On rainy Sundays when he couldn’t spend all day running around with the neighbourhood kids, five-year-old Yuri would sit at his Babushka’s feet and ask countless questions about his parents

“They were in an accident,” his Babushka would say as she wound yarn around her hands. Around and around and around. He would watch her, hypnotised. “Your Dedushka and I were very sad when we heard.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re in heaven, Yuratchka,”

“Did they love me?”

“Of course they did, Yuratchka,”

Babushka would smile at him warmly and then Dedushka would pick him up and swing him in the air.

“And we love you too.” he’d rumble, and they’d all go into the kitchen bickering about whether to make cheese pancakes or French toast for breakfast.

 

 

When Babushka died, Dedushka was very sad.

After the funeral, Yuri found him sitting quietly in Babushka’s chair. Yuri sat with him. He missed Babushka too.

 

 

When Yuri was fifteen years old, his grandfather died and he was alone.

 

* * *

 

**(5) Missed Calls from Mila Babicheva, Unknown Number**

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Mila Babicheva**

**Sent: 9:38**

yuri??? i just heard the news. call me ok??

**Sent: 15:17**

yuri? (((

 

**To: Mila Babicheva**

**From: Yuri Plisetsky**

**Sent: 22:01**

im ok

see you at school

 

 

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Unknown**

**Sent: 19:05**

Hi Yuri! I tried calling you but you didn’t pick up so I guess I’ll try later. I couldn’t come and meet you at the funeral but I can’t wait to meet you as soon as possible! I’ll ask Elena when it’s a good time for me to come visit. This is Viktor btw :)

 

* * *

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Mila Babicheva**

**Sent: 16:29**

good luck on your move today!! tell me what america’s like <3 <3

 

**To: Mila Babicheva**

**From: Yuri Plisetsky**

**Sent: 17:16**

thanks. i can’t wait to stop sharing beds with my cousin. he snores like CRAZY

 

* * *

 

On the day of his arrival, Yuri hadn’t been surprised when Viktor suggested they order takeout for dinner. After five hours of unpacking Yuri’s suitcases, they were both too exhausted to cook anything.

(What he had been surprised about was the flying leap that Viktor’s dog had taken at him as soon as he'd opened the front door.)

“Thai’s my favourite,” Viktor spread out a wide variety of take-out menus on his kitchen table. “Sushi’s good too! I practically _lived_ on sushi when I was studying in St Petersburg,”

They’d ended up going with sushi.

The meal was awkward. The packing had been fine; Viktor had happily filled the silence with mindless small talk along the lines of “Oh how was your flight?” and “Do you drink orange juice? I’ll buy some tomorrow,”

(“Why so much animal print?” Viktor had also asked after folding three pairs of leopard print leggings in a row.)

Now faced with more varieties of sushi than Yuri had seen in his life, Viktor had seemed to decide that it was Yuri’s turn to talk. It did not help that he was feeling uncharacteristically quiet.

“So tell me about yourself!” Viktor gushed. “What’s your favourite food? Do you have a crush on someone? As your guardian it’s very important that I know these things, Yuratchka.”

“Don’t call me that.” Yuri mumbled. Hearing the familiar pet name left him with an ache in his chest that he hadn’t felt in days. Even if the move had been hectic, Yuri still felt guilty that he hadn’t thought about his dedushka in what felt like forever

Viktor’s face froze into a polite smile. “Oh. Would you like me to call you Yura then?”

Yuri didn’t reply, stuffing a salmon nigiri into his mouth so he didn’t have to speak. He didn’t want to admit to Viktor that he was scared. Terrified, even. Viktor seemed the complete opposite of his Dedushka, with his fancy iPhone and a cool apartment and a salary more than anything his Dedushka and Babushka had earned in their entire lifetimes. There were just so many things he didn’t _know._ What is it going to be like living in another country? Will school be OK? And why did Viktor _really_ choose to take him in?

“Why didn’t you come to Dedushka’s funeral?”

“Ah… I couldn’t afford to take any time off of work,” Viktor said, his mouth twisted into a small frown. “I hope you understand, Yuri,”

Yuri didn’t understand. Dedushka had always talked so fondly of Viktor. Surely he’d be able to get time off of work to honour the death of one of the few members of the Plisetsky family that openly welcomed him into their homes.

His Babushka had had a completely different attitude towards him. Yuri had met Viktor before, but only briefly. He must have been around seven or eight when Viktor had come over for dinner, but Yuri had been much too shy to get to know him. Despite being so young, he still had a few hazy memories of hiding under the covers afterwards and listening to Babushka scolding his Dedushka for bringing an ‘ _ублюдок’_ into their home.

“This is good sushi, no?” Viktor grinned. “Chris showed me this place — you’ll meet him soon. We should try going there in person. Their matcha ice cream is _the best,”_

Yuri nodded. It was good sushi.

 

* * *

 

“Ew,” Yuri grimaced as Viktor’s dog licked at his fingers after dinner. It was a kind of poodle for sure, but he didn’t know a lot about dogs.

“I think she likes you!” Viktor scratched her ears and Yuri watched the speed of the dog’s tail increase from a steady pace to near invisible. Experimentally, Yuri scratched her ears too.

“Makkachin likes belly rubs as well. Wait until I show you her _costumes!”_ Viktor beamed and skipped away.

“Your name is Makkachin,” Yuri whispered to the dog while Viktor was gone, who panted in affirmative. He knew he’d probably forget it again sooner or later, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Yuri!" Viktor bounded back into the room carrying two sparkly costumes on minature hangers. "Let’s dress Makkachin up to celebrate your first day! Which one is cuter, princess or pirate? I did buy the princess one first so it is an old classic but, oh, do you see this little pirate sword? A sword for _dogs!_ But the tiara is so pretty…”

Yuri watched him deliberate over the two and quickly realised that Viktor was undeniably, unequivocally, a _dog person_.

 

* * *

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Mila Babicheva**

**Sent: 10:41**

i miss you already :(

 

**To: Mila Babicheva**

**From: Yuri Plisetsky**

**Sent: 11:05**

stop being such a sap

did you know in america they have flags EVERYWHERE

 

* * *

 

There were three things that Yuri Plisetsky learnt about Viktor Nikiforov in his first month living with him:

 

**1) He can’t cook to save his life**

 

Yuri’s Babushka had always drilled into him the importance of healthy eating, and while his health wasn’t on the top of Yuri’s priorities, Yuri was _bored_ of take-out food.

“Can’t we just make something instead?”

Viktor dropped a familiar pile of take-out menus on the floor.

“…Make?”

“Yeah. I’m sick of take-out. We’ve had it for every meal this week.”

“That’s not true. We had some ready meals too. And I made you sandwiches!”

Yuri gave him a _look_.

“Um,” Viktor blinked back at him and then tapped a finger to his lips in thought. “It shouldn’t be too hard I suppose. I don’t think I have any recipes though…”

The lack of recipes was not their largest obstacle, however. Viktor’s fridge was completely empty save for the milk that Yuri used for his cereal in the mornings, half a loaf of bread and a few condiments.

“Ah! I know what we can make! I used to do this all the time in college.”

Yuri sat at the table and watched as Viktor pulled a few dusty packets from the cupboards and started clattering around the kitchen. Ten minutes later a bowl of disgusting pink mess was placed in front of him.

“What is _this?_ ” Yuri whined, trying not to breathe in the awful smell.

“Ramen noodles.”

“With _what?”_

“Mayonnaise and ketchup! Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

Viktor tucked right in. After pushing the gloopy mass of noodles around his bowl for a few minutes, Yuri tried a bite. He gagged.

“Do you not like it?” Viktor frowned. “I guess it does taste like there’s something missing,” After a few seconds, he clicked his fingers. “Yes! I know! It’s something Americans eat all the time. It’s called _ranch dressing.”_

Yuri glared at him.

“…We’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

 

**2) He does not understand how washing machines work**

 

Because it was just the two of them, Yuri and Viktor agreed to split the chores, under the condition that Yuri did the cooking and Viktor did the dishes. Yuri was fine with this. He’d ended up doing most of the chores before his Dedushka had died anyway, especially after his arthritis had worsened.

On the first weekend, after Viktor had piled the clothes into the washing machine, it was Yuri’s job to hang them out to dry. After wrestling with a few too many of Viktor’s v-necks and trying not to trip over a very curious Makkachin, Yuri moved onto his own clothing. His leopard print leggings were _ruined_. The dryer setting had mangled up the delicate fabric and he knew he’d have to throw them away. To his surprise, he felt tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

_I’m… crying?_

Yuri furiously tried to wipe them away. He felt a lump build up in his throat.

_Why am I so sad?_

Yuri heard a shuffle behind him and Makkachin barked.

“Yuri? Are you alright?” Viktor was standing in the doorway.

“Y-yeah,” Yuri mentally kicked himself for stuttering. He didn’t want Viktor to try to comfort him. He’d had more than enough people trying to comfort him recently. The thought brought a fresh wave of tears to Yuri’s eyes. He tried to ignore Viktor and stared down at the leggings instead.

Viktor slowly approached him, eyeing him like a deer that was about to dart away. He gently took the leggings that were clenched in Yuri’s hands and ran a hand over a large rip on the front.

“Oh no, it looks like they didn’t do so well in the machine. I guess I should have washed them separately,” Viktor frowned. “Sorry Yura, I was planning to buy you some new clothes soon. I can get you a new pair then?”

Yuri didn’t reply.

“Yuri?” Viktor chuckled a little awkwardly. “Uh, I don’t really understand why you’re crying so much. Would you like a hug or…?” He laid a hand on Yuri’s shoulder.

Yuri shoved his arm away.

“Get away from me!”

He ran to his room and ignored Viktor’s alarmed shout, slamming the door shut and throwing himself onto his bed. Yuri was _so angry._ But he was sad as well. And embarrassed. And scared. He was feeling so many different emotions that he was overwhelmed. The only thing he could do was press his face into one of his pillows and sob.

There was a knock at the door. Yuri ignored it. There was another, and after that came a muffled voice.

“Yuri. I know you’re upset.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” cried Yuri.

“I’m sorry.” He heard Viktor sigh. “ I know I’m bad with…. emotions.”

And then the house went silent.

After a short while, Yuri sat up and wiped his eyes. The tears had stopped. He took a few deep breaths and felt a lot calmer than he had five minutes ago.

“Idiot.” he hiccupped.

“Yura?”

So he was still outside the door then.

“You know, I might know you a bit better than you think,” Yuri could hear that Viktor was smiling, and it made him even angrier. “When I was studying for my degree I visited you and your parents a few times. You were still a toddler.”

“You met my parents?” As far as Yuri knew, Viktor never interacted with the rest of the family.

“Yep! And Yura, you were sooooo cute!”

Yuri felt his face turn bright red and he buried his face in his knees.

Viktor laughed. “Are you upset? Don’t worry you’re still cute now.”

He marched across the room, yanked open the door and glared at Viktor as he fell backwards into Yuri’s room with a thud.

“I’m not cute!” he snapped.

Makkachin trotted into the room and ran in a little circle before sniffing at Viktor’s surprised face. Yuri’d be lying if the corners of his lips didn’t twitch upwards at the sight of Viktor squirming away from being licked all over by an overenthusiastic poodle.

 

**3) The reason his apartment is so clean is because he is never in it**

 

Viktor had taken a week off to help Yuri get settled into his new home. He took him around the city, showing him all of the best places to eat, his favourite museums and indulged in several shopping sprees, with Viktor enthusiastically offering to buy Yuri anything that he showed a hint of interest in. Yuri didn’t want to admit it, but he’d really enjoyed the attention. Viktor, although most of the time he was incredibly annoying, could be a lot of fun sometimes.

And then Viktor went back to work.

School wasn’t due to start for another week and he didn’t feel like wandering around a city that was still unfamiliar to him, so Yuri was stuck in Viktor’s apartment (he hadn’t quite learnt to call it home yet). He did take Makkachin to the park everyday, however, upon Viktor's orders. After two weeks, he had gained an unexpected amount of experience in picking up dog poop. Yuri decided not to text Mila about that part of his stay.

He had so much free time that he wasn’t sure what to do with it. During his first few days home alone, Yuri spent his time roaming the apartment. It was spacious and open plan, so there wasn’t much to see that couldn’t be observed from a quick stroll into the different rooms. He _did_ consider poking around Viktor’s room to find some secrets he could embarrass him with. He’d never tell Viktor of course, but he thought it was funny to have some dirt on his new guardian. His plan came to a screeching halt after he found a few… inappropriate items in Viktor’s bedside drawer. Blushing furiously, Yuri decided that he’d stick to his side of the apartment from now on.

Most days Yuri would wake up alone to a note on the fridge telling him that there was food inside that he could microwave for lunch, and that Viktor would definitely be back home on time today. More often than not, Viktor would come back from work late, apologising profusely and enveloping. Yuri in a big hug, much to his chagrin. They’d spend a few hours together until Viktor would plead exhaustion and head right to bed.

Viktor worked in the media. He’d told Yuri a lot more about his job than that, but he’d tuned out after a while.

It wasn’t that Yuri was angry at Viktor. He was just a bit lonely. Texting Mila didn’t help. Cuddling Makkachin didn’t either. They’d cheer him up most of the time but sometimes he would curl up on the sofa and let the crushing weight of his homesickness get to him. If it was a particularly bad day, he’d start thinking about his Dedushka and the waterworks would start all over again.

Yuri and Viktor hadn’t discussed his Dedushka since their first dinner together. Yuri didn’t mind. He didn’t really feel comfortable talking about something so raw and emotional with him. Yuri still didn’t really know Viktor at all, but it seemed like Viktor didn’t want to talk about it either. Whenever he had a chance to bring him up, Viktor always seemed to dance around the subject.

Sometimes he wonders if Viktor goes for days forgetting that he’s even there. Yuri feels like he’s fading into the background, like he’s become just another ornament to join the collection of trinkets that Viktor keeps in his apartment.

With Viktor hardly in and Yuri rarely doing anything besides surfing the internet, playing with Makkachin and laying around all day, the apartment stayed in the same pristine condition that Yuri had been impressed by when he first arrived.

He remembers the cozy little house that he and his Dedushka and Babushka had shared. It had been _much_ messier but Yuri had liked it, in a strange way.

“At least I don’t have to clean up after him,” Yuri whispered to himself as he waited for Viktor to come home from work one night. He glared at Makkachin, who was chewing on a dental stick. "I have to clean up after _you_ , though."

 

* * *

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Mila Babicheva**

**Sent: 01:05**

YUUUUURIIIII stop ignoring meee

tell me more about your weird uncle

is he your uncle????

**Sent: 03:22**

ps when are you starting school?

 

* * *

 

Makkachin trotted to the front door, her tail wagging before Yuri heard it unlock.

“Yuuuuri! I’m back!”

Viktor was home early. Well, earlier than normal. Yuri shot up from the sofa in surprise and saw not only a beaming Viktor but someone he’d never seen before. He was blonde (Yuri wondered if it had been bleached), and was wearing a casual suit much like the one Viktor was currently wearing.

“Hi Yuri,” purred the man. He stepped forward and kissed Yuri lightly on each cheek.

Yuri wrinkled his nose as it was suddenly assaulted with the heavy scent of cologne.

“Um. Hello.” he mumbled.

“Yuri, this is Christophe Giacometti. He’s a friend from work! Chris, this is Yuri. My darling son!”

_His son._ Those words sounded so strange in Yuri’s ears. Chris’ eyes twinkled.

“If I didn’t know that by now I’d have to be deaf. Viktor’s been telling me a lot about you, Yuri,”

“Oh God. What has he been saying?” Yuri cringed.

Chris tapped his nose with one finger and winked. Yuri cringed even harder. _Why are adults so embarrassing?_

“You haven’t eaten dinner yet, have you?” Viktor set his laptop bag on the sofa. “I’ve asked Chris to show us this new Ethiopian restaurant downtown. Have you had Ethiopian food, Yuri?”

“No.”

“You eat with bread! _Bread_!” Viktor was practically jumping with excitement.

Yuri had no idea what that meant. He went to get his coat.

 

* * *

 

Halfway through the meal, when Viktor excused himself to (in his exact words) “freshen up”, Chris wiped his mouth neatly with a napkin and rested his chin on his hands, eyeing Yuri intently. Yuri eyed him right back.

“What do you want?” Yuri asked through a mouthful of injera.

“That’s not very polite, Yuri,” Chris smiled. “Don’t worry though, I’m used to Viktor being rude all the time. He can be kind of insensitive sometimes.” Chris’s expression slowly morphed into something a lot more serious

_What the hell is this guy going on about,_ thought Yuri.

“Has Viktor been insensitive to you?”

“…He’s fine.”

Chris nodded and took a sip of water. “Good. I was just curious. I never really imagined Viktor becoming a father is all,”

Yuri was a little annoyed. Viktor wasn’t _that_ bad. Who was this Chris to judge Viktor when he didn’t know how they interacted at all?

“Viktor’s been kind to me.” Yuri felt his cheeks go warm. He was so glad Viktor wasn’t here to witness this.

Chis just smiled, a little sadly this time. “He _is_ kind, isn’t he? But he’s not perfect.”

He pulled a business card from his blazer pocket and handed it to Yuri.

“My personal number is on this. If you every feel like venting to someone or would like to eat something that’s not noodles or something from a can, just call me,” He winked. “My husband makes a great rosti.”

Yuri was speechless. It was at this time that Viktor chose to return from the restroom.

“Oh, Chris gave you his business card?”

Chris grinned crookedly, revealing very white teeth. “It’s good to start ‘em young.”

Viktor raised his glass. “Cheers to that!”

 

* * *

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Viktor Nikiforov**

**Sent: 17:13**

What should I buy from the grocery store? :)

 

* * *

 

It was Yuri’s second Sunday living with Viktor, and Yuri decided to make stew.

“Are you excited about starting school tomorrow?” asked Viktor, who was peeling the carrots.

“Of course I am,” Yuri grumbled as he stirred the pot and eyed Makkachin who was silently begging at his feet for a scrap of beef. “There’s only so much time I can spend putting up with your nonsense before I go crazy.”

He really was excited. After watching so many movies about American high schools he couldn’t wait to see what it was really like.

_I wonder if they’ll make fun of my accent._

Yuri cursed as his hand jerked, the ladle he had been stirring the stew with slipping into the pot. Of course, Viktor had noticed.

“Oh! Are you nervous?” Viktor laughed in delight. “Ah, to be young again…”

“I’m not nervous,” Yuri sulked.

After they had finished dinner, Viktor jumped up and made a gesture for Yuri to stay where he was.

“I have a surprise for you!” He sang, and bounced off into his bedroom. He returned with two bags bearing the logo of what Yuri recognised to be a very fancy department store.

_Oh boy,_ thought Yuri as he was handed the first bag. He peeked inside — and gasped. Inside the bag was a sturdy looking canvas backpack decorated with an embroidered tiger head and silky embroidered flowers.

“…It’s perfect,”

“You like it?” Viktor was beaming. “I saw it and I thought it was so chic! It’s always good to have a statement piece.”

Yuri felt himself blush a little from happiness. Out of all of the things that Viktor had bought him so far, this was his favourite. He ran his finger over the shiny thread before looked up to see Viktor watching him with a soft smile.

“Open the next one!”

So he did. Inside were a sleek black pencil case and a collection of good quality stationery. Yuri reached in a took out a fancy-looking ball-point pen.

“Viktor, how much did all of this cost?”

Viktor shook his head gravely. “Never tell someone how much a gift costs, Yura. Take that as a life lesson from me.”

Yuri stared at Viktor. Viktor blinked back at him.

“…What happened, then?” Yuri sighed.

Viktor slumped in his seat.

“I bought my mother this _amazing_ lingerie set for her birthday once. I knew she would love it,” He hung his head mournfully. “When I gave it to her, all she did was ask me how much it was. She made me return it right afterwards,”

“How old were you?”

Viktor rubbed his chin in thought.

“I think I was… ten? I saved up my pocket money for months,” He sniffed. “Don’t tell people the prices of your gifts because it only ends in misery. Understand Yuri?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. _Something tells me that telling her the price was not her main reason for returning a lingerie set chosen by a ten-year-old._

 

* * *

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Viktor Nikiforov**

**Sent: 8:00**

Good luck good luck good luck! :D

 

* * *

 

The next day, Yuri marched to school in his best black leggings, his favourite leopard print hoodie and the backpack that Viktor had given him. Viktor had apologised that he couldn’t accompany him for his first day of school, to which Yuri had insisted that he wasn’t _five_ anymore and of course he could go to school by himself.

He’d just arrived at the reception and was immediately greeted by a man standing by the front desk.

“Are you Yuri Plisetsky?”

“Yes!” Yuri barked.

The man looked so… soft was the only way Yuri could describe it. The man was wrapped up in a cardigan and had a round face framed by blue glasses. Yuri’s face grew warmer as he imagined what it would feel like to touch the man’s fluffy-looking hair.

“Great! Here are some documents you might find helpful,” Yuri blinked down at the sheets of paper that had been pressed into his hands. “It’s just a map and a list of the school rules. The other students got these last year so I thought I’d give them to you now.”

Yuri blanched in horror as he flipped through fifteen pages of rules and regulations.

The man chuckled. “Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. I’m going to be your homeroom teacher. You can call me Mr Katsuki.”

Mr Katsuki headed further into the building, gesturing for Yuri to follow. He trailed behind him in a daze, staring at the displays on the walls. _It looks like they have a lot of partner schools abroad. I wonder if they have one in Russia?_

They stopped in front of a door. Yuri realised that Mr Katsuki was looking at him.

“Are you nervous? Don’t be. My class is really friendly! Just introduce yourself to the rest of the class and you're free to go.”

Opening the door, Mr Katsuki beckoned Yuri inside.

“Hello, class! I hope you all had a great summer. We have a new student joining us this year!”

Yuri felt his shoulder tense as twenty-odd pairs of eyes trained on him. He took a deep breath, widened his stance and puffed up his chest.

“I’m Yuri Plisetsky!”

 

* * *

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Mila Babicheva**

**Sent:** 22:01

yuri i have a new boyfriend! <3

also how is school now that you’ve finally started

are any of the teachers hot ;)

 

* * *

 

“Is your accent Russian?” a girl in the cafeteria asked him on the first day.

“…Yes.” Yuri should have expected this to happen.

“Oh my gosh! That’s so interesting,” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Can I ask you questions about Russia?”

“...I guess?” Yuri shrugged. She wanted to know more about Russia? Why not?

 

* * *

 

“Furry hat? You mean уша́нка? …Um, no. I don’t have one of those. ”

 

* * *

 

“What’s the word for… like, you use it to measure angles?” Yuri whispered to a curly-haired blond in the library on his third day.

“You don’t know?” The blond whispered back before glancing at his friend. “It’s _dick_!”

Next to him, his friend covered her mouth with her hands, trying to stifle giggles.

Yuri raised his eyebrows. “I know what that means, dumbass.”

The curly-haired teen’s eyes widened. He coughed awkwardly as his friend began to cackle.

“Oh. It’s. Uh,” He coughed again, avoiding Yuri’s eyes. “It’s protractor. The word you’re looking for.”

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

“What the fuck? I don’t have a pet bear! What kind of question is that?”

“Language!” Mr Katsuki scolded from his desk.

 

* * *

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Viktor Nikiforov**

**Sent: 9:19**

I’m coming home a bit earlier today! Get ready, I’m bringing back something really good for dinner. <3 <3

Also I hope you brought your umbrella. Chris told me there’s going to be a storm. Exciting!!

 

* * *

 

“I was an international student, once.” Mr Katsuki confessed.

“What?” asked Yuri, distracted. It was break time, and after receiving Viktor’s text, he’d chosen to spend it watching the clouds gathering in the sky. It was his second week at school and Yuri felt too exhausted to spend it attempting to socialise with anyone.

“I said that I moved here from another country too,” Mr Katsuki chuckled. “It was such a hassle! Because I was so chubby, everyone called me rice ball,”

Yuri raised an eyebrow

“It hurt my feelings though, and I was too shy to say anything. It took some encouragement from my friend to really make my feelings clear.” the teacher continued.

Yuri turned from the window. Mr Katsuki was standing a few feet away from him, and besides the two of them, the classroom was empty.

“Why are you telling me this?” Yuri asked.

Mr Katsuki smiled. Yuri wondered if he was imagining the hint of nervousness in his face.

“Well, I just know what you might be going through. What I mean to say, Yuri, is that if it’s feeling a bit overwhelming being the new kid, I’m always happy to give you some advice. I’d even be happy to just sit and listen if you want to vent.”

Yuri stared at him. _…Is Mr Katsuki trying to have a heart-to-heart?_ He almost wanted to laugh. _How cheesy can you get?_

“No _,_ ” Yuri scoffed. “Unlike you, I’m a coward. I tell people when they say something stupid.”

Mr Katsuki wasn’t phased in the slightest.

“Don’t be shy about it,” Mr Katsuki scratched his head. “I wish I had said this to you on the first day. I guess I was a bit too excited to introduce you to everyone else.”

The teacher collected a few folders from his desk and began to make his way out of the empty classroom.

“If you’re feeling homesick, or having trouble making friends or anything of the sort, just know that I’m here. Okay?” Mr Katsuki called out.

And then he was gone.

Yuri stared down at his feet. He _was_ homesick. He’d been homesick for ages. It didn’t seem like it was going to fade away, ever. And had Yuri made friends? Being the new kid from a mysterious far away country, he had enjoyed a buzz of interest surrounding him in the first week of school. However, as time passed, Yuri realised that all the students had already formed their own groups and Yuri wasn’t a part of any of them.

His classmates were friendly and the work was fine. But even if he had settled into the routine of it, it just wasn’t the same as his school in Russia.

Yuri missed getting into trouble for laughing with his friends in class. He missed hanging out with friends after school. Walking into school each day and feeling a little thrill from seeing a group of friendly faces that greet him when he entered the room.

Once again, Yuri was lonely. He was _bored_ of being lonely.

 

* * *

 

On the way to his locker at the end of the school day, someone knocked him over.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” Yuri snapped.

The person in question towered over him. Yuri recognised him from his class but had never really talked to him.

“You were the one that bumped into me, asshole!” the person in question snarled as Yuri got up and dusted himself off.

“Yeesh. You think you’re all high and mighty just because you come from some backwater country full of ignorant assholes like you!”

Yuri had been heading for the door. He stopped dead. He turned.

“You wanna say that to my face?” Yuri growled. The other grinned slyly.

“I don’t need to.”

Yuri gasped as the side of his face exploded in pain. Staggering back, he realised he’d been punched in the face. A hot, terrible anger burned within Yuri.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and without a single pause Yuri launched himself at the other student, the surprise allowing Yuri to shove him into the wall of lockers despite the size disadvantage. Yuri felt a grim satisfaction at the resulting hiss of pain and clenched his fist, ready to answer the first punch with one of his own.

“Hey, stop.” A firm hand landed on Yuri’s shoulder and forced him to turn around.

The owner of the voice was tall, and his dark hair was styled into an undercut. Yuri didn’t recognise him at all, but it was obvious he was a student. He shrugged off the arm and backed away, legs suddenly weak and feeling that it was getting harder and harder to _breathe._

The newcomer was looking at him with an intensity that on any other day Yuri would have found strange.

“You OK?” Dark Hair asked.

But Yuri couldn’t hear him. Everything around him faded away. All he could hear was the rush of blood through his ears roaring louder and louder. Yuri felt himself break out into a cold sweat. The right side of his face, where he had been punched, began to throb.

_Everything’s going wrong._

What else could Yuri do besides run away?

_wrong wrong wrong wrong_

 

* * *

 

Thunder rumbled in the sky as Yuri ran through the school gates. When he felt the first raindrop hit the back of his neck, he didn’t falter for a second, determined to get as far away from the school as possible.

When the raindrop was followed by a downpour, Yuri finally skidded to a stop, panting heavily.

_Where am I?_

He had no idea. Judging from the buildings, he was in the middle of an apartment complex.

Yuri knew he should probably text Viktor and tell him where he was. Knew that if he did, Viktor wouldn’t have had a problem with driving him back home. He’d seen the text. He was probably heading back to the apartment right now.

Yuri tilted his head upwards and closed his eyes as the rain continue to fall, revelling in the sensation of wetness on his face. He felt himself begin to shiver. He hadn’t had time to get his coat.

_I want to go home._

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Yuri wasn’t supposed to get into fights. Whenever Yuri had gotten into scuffles with the neighbourhood kids his Babushka would croon over his bruises before slapping his wrist with a spoon and scolding him for being so reckless.

He felt his eyes prick with tears.

“No.” Yuri croaked.

_I’m not supposed to cry._

He stumbled to a nearby doorstep and sat with his head in his hands.

 

* * *

 

The sky was beginning to get dark when he felt the rain come to an abrupt stop. Someone was holding an umbrella over him.

“Yuri?”

It was Mr Katsuki. Yuri didn’t react when he recognised his voice. He’d curled into himself and didn’t want to move at all. Not for a second.

“Yuri, can you hear me?”

His voice was closer now. Mr Katsuki had crouched down in front of him. He felt a warm hand briefly touch his shoulder.

“You’re freezing,” Mr Katsuki gasped. “How long have you been out here? You’re not even wearing a coat!”

Yuri finally looked up. The teacher’s face was pale and his mouth was set in a hard line. He was bundled up in a blue coat and his cheeks were flushed from the cold.

“My apartment’s just around the corner. Come on, you better come with me.”

Yuri sneezed.

 

* * *

 

**(13) Missed Calls from Viktor Nikiforov**

 

**To: Yuri Plisetsky**

**From: Viktor Nikiforov**

**Sent: 16:11**

Yuri where are you? I just came back and I can’t seem to find you :(

**Sent: 16:39**

I know we haven’t talked about curfews yet but I’d have liked it if you had told me where you were going at least.

**Sent: 18:00**

Yuri, you’re scaring me. Call me right now.

**Sent: 20:06**

Please come home.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> poor yuri. sorry for the cliffhanger! well, I’m not that sorry lol
> 
> this will be my first multi-chapter fanfic and i’m so excited to share this with you guys. we’ll be exploring some different povs soon so stay tuned for the next chapter!


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